


take two

by anonh8



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, First Kiss, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Slow Burn, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Teenage Losers Club (IT), its not slow burn if you read it fast enough?, possible angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22285330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonh8/pseuds/anonh8
Summary: “What the fuck is going on?” Richie asked, still not feeling satisfied.“You’re not going to believe me,” Eddie replied, almost bored, “No one ever does.”“Tell me anyway,” Richie snapped. For a second, he felt bad for his harsh tone, but then he remembered he had a right to know why the fuck Eddie fucking Kaspbrak was standing in his house. Eddie didn’t look fazed anyway.“I’m here because you didn’t do something right,” He replied.Rated for language
Relationships: Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 12
Kudos: 33





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> This is a plot ive been working on for a bit, but i’ve lost a little motivation, so i wanted to publish it to see if people are actually interested.
> 
> If you like it i’ll definitely write more fo sho i just wanted to make sure this wasn’t a lost cause. 
> 
> much love

Richie Tozier woke up to the sound of the snap of a rubber band. It wasn’t loud, but repetitive and persistent enough to slowly shake him out of sleep’s welcoming arms. He rubbed his eyes, confused. snap. Slowly, he managed to get out of bed, stretching quickly before walking over to the connecting bathroom. snap.

The snap was actually coming from his sink, the handle still turned slightly so the faucet was dripping slowly, but constantly. Richie watched another water droplet form, grow, and then drop suddenly onto his dry sink. snap. He shut it off quickly, rubbing his temples from a headache already forming.

Today was not going to be a good day.

He was graduating from high school, which would have been exciting and maybe bittersweet for most, but for Richie it just reminded him that he had wasted 4 years of his life and still wasn’t sure what he was going to do for the rest of it.

He had applied to college, sure, but only because his parents made him. He still wasn’t sure what major to stick with. He felt like he had almost no life interests. Even his resume was relatively blank, with only a few clubs he joined on a whim after Beverly convinced him to.

Beverly. Shit. He was supposed to meet up with her for breakfast before the ceremony. He shot her a quick text that he was going to be late and then got ready for the day.

Altogether, everything was a blur, but not because it was exciting or eventful. He couldn’t say it was a bad day, because Richie spent most of it with Beverly, definitely his favourite person on earth, but she was also crying for a significant portion of the time. 

Everyone was crying. And, sure, Richie could be nostalgic and emotional from time to time, but nothing about Derry or his childhood there sparked any emotion.

Of course, he loved Bev unconditionally, but he chose not to directly associate her with Derry. It wasn’t like they were never going to see each other again anyway. 

The breakfast was definitely the best part of his day, as they finally got to catch up after weeks of scarce communication, with all the finals they had to study for. However, the ceremony was long and it was much hotter than the average Derry summer day, so it was mostly uncomfortable and boring. The occasional warm breeze provided little relief from the thick humid air that Richie was pretty sure he could slice with a knife if he tried. It wasn’t pleasant. 

The banquet afterwards was equally uneventful. His mom was able to attend, but not his father, and his mom provided an excuse that was way too lame to miss your only child’s graduation for.

He didn’t like the pitiful but somehow not sympathetic look his mom gave him during that conversation.

He was quick to leave after he hugged his goodbyes to Beverly, knowing he would probably see her again within the next few hours when she invited him to someone’s graduation party or something. For now, he just wanted to go home and take a cold shower.

As he stepped under the cool water, Richie let out a breath he felt like he’d been holding the whole day. The rain of the shower washed over his back in a steady rhythm as he closed his eyes. He knew he didn’t really have time to be relaxed at all; He had his whole life to figure out. For now, though, he needed to slow down. Take things one at a time. He was really tired, anyway.

Pretty much the moment he got out of the shower and got in his bed, he fell asleep. 

Richie Tozier woke up to the sound of a rubber band snapping, again. He rubbed his eyes as he reached for his glasses. snap. 

Shit, he thought, I’m going to run the water bill through the roof if I keep forgetting to turn the faucet off before I go to sleep. He was about to get up to turn the water off when he sat up to see a dark figure leaning against the wall by the end of his bed, snapping a rubber band on his wrist. Richie stopped, stunned for a second. What the fuck?

“What the fuck?” Richie said, repeating his thoughts, still a little drowsy and a little convinced he’s imagining the person. But as the figure came into focus, he seemed too real- a small boy, somewhat familiar, looking about his age. “Who are you? How did you get in here?” He asked, a little frantically.

“You don’t remember me?” The boy asked, a playful tone in his voice. Richie was about to reply when he realized he did, in fact, recognize the figure. It was Eddie Kaspbrak, a boy that went to his school before transferring and moving out of state. Strangely, Richie didn’t remember much about Eddie, but he could still recognize him, despite the difference in age.

His face was a little leaner than Richie remembered, probably because of the fact that it’s been three years since seeing him, but he still had an inherent childlike quality to his features. His eyes were the same honey brown, but they appeared a deep brown void-like color, probably because of the lack of light source. The only faint light coming from richie’s window simply reflected off of Eddie’s slightly tousled hair, which was really the only thing surprisingly different about him. Normally Eddie’s hair was combed and neat, and Eddie swore it was because his mom made him, but Richie was pretty sure he also liked the style, because whenever Richie would mess it up he would always complain and quickly put it back into place.

Richie surprised himself with that last thought. When did he learn that fact about Eddie? He didn’t know him. 

Richie was about to voice his recognition, but Eddie seemed to read his mind, though, or maybe the recognition showed on Richie’s face, because he spoke up before Richie could and said, “Bingo,” without Richie having to mention anything. Eddie snapped the rubber band again, nonchalantly.

“What the fuck is going on?” Richie asked, still not feeling satisfied. 

“You’re not going to believe me,” Eddie replied, almost bored, “No one ever does.”

“Tell me anyway,” Richie snapped. For a second, he felt bad for his harsh tone, but then he remembered he had a right to know why the fuck Eddie fucking Kaspbrak was standing in his house. Eddie didn’t look fazed by his attitude anyway. That was typical of him, Richie could go on an hour long monologue with a string of cuss words and Eddie wouldn’t give two fucks.

What? How did Richie know that? 

“I’m here because you didn’t do something right,” Eddie replied, simply, as if that answered Richie’s questions in any way.

“What?” Richie said. Eddie had no time to be vague and mysterious. Richie wanted to know what was going on, like, right now. Everything was so confusing and he kept thinking things he shouldn’t know unless he knew Eddie well, which, last he checked, he didn’t. 

“Ok, look,” Eddie said, pinching his temples. For some reason, that gave Richie a serious sense of deja vu. “I’m not the real ‘Eddie Kaspbrak’,” he said, mimicking air quotes with his hands.

“What?” Richie repeated, dumbly. 

“I’m like a vessel. Like a mailman, of sorts. I’m here to deliver you,” He punctuated his words by pointing to Richie, “to where you need to go to fix something. There’s something you didn’t do, that you didn’t complete, and that goes against what’s right, or whatever. Is that all?” 

No, Richie wanted to say, That is not nearly enough information I need to know what is happening and why this boy is standing in my room because surely all of this is some sort of dream and i’ll snap out of it, but his mouth wouldn’t move to make the words appear. Was he high? Definitely. He was on serious LSD or something because even though he’s never been on it before he decided to and it’s such a bad trip and he’s really just hallucinating.

Richie choked for a second, and instead, he spit out, “What do I need to do?” Which was totally not what he wanted to ask. He didn’t want to play along with this sick stranger who looked oddly similar to someone he barely knew from his childhood.

“Actually, it’s something you need to not do. More like something you need to stop, to prevent. Something you need to stop me from doing, but not actually me,” He paused, looking to Richie for a comment. Richie shook his head, bewildered. What was he supposed to say to that? 

“You need to stop Eddie from doing something. I’m not Eddie Kaspbrak. I just look like him, I guess. I’m not really real, It’s all very confusing.” Not-Eddie Kaspbrak said, and, yeah, no shit it was very confusing. 

“Why do I have anything to do with Eddie Kaspbrak?” Richie asked, still bewildered and not convinced this wasn’t real.

“Oh,” Not-Eddie says, pausing for a moment, “Oh, don’t you remember? He was your best friend.”

And, suddenly, it’s like a door of memories was opened, so forceful that it almost knocked the wind out of Richie. The memories aren’t complete, he could tell, but he remembers tidbits- the crease of Eddie’s brow after an edgy joke, the golden tint to his face from the setting sun, his voice toned heavily with sarcasm, his laugh, his hair, his deep brown eyes. His cheeks turning bright red. His nose, too, but from the cold. His cold fingers intertwined with Richie’s. His soft hands. His pink lips with insults streaming out of them. Richie only remembers small pieces, but it almost brings him to tears at what he’s lost.

Suddenly the fact that he kept remembering weird quirks about Eddie throughout his and Not-Eddie’s conversation made more sense.

However, this realization sparked more questions. Why couldn’t he remember? Why did he forget in the first place? Eddie was clearly a staple in Richie’s younger life. Did Richie get in a wreck or something and lost his memory? He sat there silently for a few seconds. Thankfully, Not-Eddie respected that. 

But not for very long. “So are you ready?” he asked, a little impatiently. Wait, what? Richie was still very confused. Where was he going? What exactly was he supposed to do? How was he even going to find Eddie? He didn’t know where he moved. Why was Not-Eddie even here, who even is Not-Eddie, and where was he taking Richie? How was he involved in their interaction?

“Wait, but I still have so many-,” Richie began, but before he could finish his sentence, Not-Eddie snapped the rubber band again and everything went dark.

Richie Tozier woke up for seemingly the third time this day, except there was no snapping sound. It was eerily quiet as he grabbed his glasses and shoved them onto his face. Looking around, he saw he was in his room and he was in his bed, so everything so far was pretty normal. Maybe it was just a really intense dream. It seemed pretty hazy, anyway.

Richie stumbled out of bed and he could immediately tell something was off. His body felt weird when he moved, like he couldn’t quite control it or he was overcompensating for his limbs. He felt smaller than usual and his arms and legs felt shorter, which was weird because he was always known for being generally tall and gangly.

He walked over to his mirror and stopped in his tracks immediately. This had to be some sort of weird continuation of a dream, he had to still be asleep or hallucinating or something because there was no way this was physically possible. He wanted to slap himself to make sure, but couldn’t find the willpower to bring up his hand.

Richie took his glasses off for a second, rubbed them on his t-shirt, and put them back on to make sure they were working correctly, that he was seeing clearly. 

He heard a knock on his door and the handle clicked as it slowly turned. His mother walked in, her eyes catching his and widening in slight surprise.

“Oh, hi,” She said, pausing for a moment, “I didn’t expect you to be awake, I came to wake you up, but,” She trailed off, standing there for a moment, very awkwardly, before saying, “Well, I guess the excitement can motivate you sometimes. I’ll let you get ready. First day of high school!” She smiled quickly, clearly a little forced, before leaving and quietly closing the door behind her. 

Richie stood there in shock. That whole interaction only confirmed his wild assumptions. 

Somehow, he had teleported—or something— back to his freshman year of high school. He still remembered everything that happened senior year, his graduation and that weird interaction with Not-Eddie Kaspbrak included.

For some reason, though, he still couldn’t recall most of his freshman year. It was like some kind of curse had stricken him, like amnesia but without the head injury.

Every minute he stood there felt like deja-vu, where he couldn’t quite predict what was going to happen next but he still felt like he’d lived it before. It was way too trippy.

Maybe that was it. Maybe he actually went to a graduation party with Bev, they smoked a really weird strain and he was tripping in an insanely real simulation.

But as he pinched himself, hard in the arm, for several minutes, reality began to sink in. Nothing happened.

Richie had to relive his life. He wasn’t going to wake up.

—


	2. chapter dos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The memories didn’t hit him as hard as Eddie’s did, but they were more connected and complete. He remembered Bill Denbrough, his stutter, and the way he looked out for all of them both physically and emotionally. Stanley “Stan the Man” Uris, who was dignified and seemed quick to retort but was actually pretty easy going. Mike Hanlon, full of advice and a steady friend. Ben Hanscom, the teddy bear of the group and the most creative. He remembered some of the things they did too, like diving from low nearby cliffs into the quarry, late nights with flashlights and hushed voices to not wake parents, loud afternoons with board game after board game and petty argument after petty argument.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you guys so much for the support from last chapter!!! it really made my life. hope u like this next chapter

Richie managed to get through school without attracting much suspicion. He’s not even sure what people would suspect him of if they saw him acting out of place, but he still worried about it. What if they think he’s high or something? He doubts that would get him closer to his goal.

He doesn’t even know what his goal was supposed to be. He replayed the situation a hundred, then a thousand times in his head. Not-Eddie never really gave him many hints about what he was supposed to be doing here. Richie only remembered him saying really vague things about what needed to happen.

Richie thought about what Not-Eddie said specifically. He had said, “More like something you need to stop, to prevent. Something you need to stop me from doing.” ‘Me’ meaning Eddie, of course. Basically, all he knew was that he needed to find Eddie. That, admittedly, wasn’t much to work on. 

When the bell rang for lunch, he was about to run to the cafeteria to see if he can catch Eddie there, when a hand forcefully grabbed his forearm and stopped him. He whipped his head around to tell the perpetrator off.

It was Beverly. Richie never thought he’d be so relieved to see a familiar face, even if that face did look four years younger. And, oddly, she also looked really mad. She dragged him by the arm, her nails digging into his skin through his sweatshirt.

“Ow, ow ow ow OW,” He protested, maybe a bit dramatically, but he also really wanted her to let go, “Where are you—ow— taking me?”

She glared back at him, her blue eyes accusatory, “Why’d you ditch us this morning?” She asked, clearly more upset than he thought at first.

“What was this morning?” He asked, genuinely confused, before realizing that was a mistake. He remembered that he was supposed to know what his life was like in freshman year. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t remember, though.

Luckily, throughout the day, a few minor details came back to him in choppy waves. What he did over the summer, old teachers he hated, people he had classes with and drama about them. Also, Eddie. He started remembering a lot of things about Eddie.

Beverly’s scowl just deepened. “Don’t play this game with me,” She said, letting go of his arm but clearly not letting him off the hook, “You know we were supposed to meet up with the rest of the losers before school.”

Richie paused, choosing his next words carefully. He knew if he played dumb, even if he genuinely didn’t know what was going on, Beverly would think it was a joke and be more mad. For once in his life, he cursed his lighthearted class-clown sort of personality. He shoved down the strong urge to ask who the losers were.

Instead, he said, “Yeah, sorry. I slept in. I was late to school anyway.” It was a lame excuse, one he used (or rather will use) often throughout high school, but she seemed to accept it anyway.

“Fine, just next time make sure you keep up with the plan,” She paused, and he thought the conversation was over, so he started to walk away. “Eddie really missed you, though,” She said.

Beverly had a sly smirk on her face, which Richie didn’t understand, but made him realize her comment was supposed to draw a reaction from him. Instead, he just said, “Can we go to lunch now?” 

Richie followed Beverly as she walked through the cafeteria and to a table outside. This wasn’t familiar to him. He was tired of not remembering most things. It was like someone cut a slice out of his life, from around middle school to mid sophomore year. It would be helpful to know who his friends were at the time, what life was like. He wondered why he never noticed the gap in his memories before.

As they approached the table, though, he started to remember who the losers were. They all sat around, talking vibrantly and passionately.

The memories didn’t hit him as hard as Eddie’s did, but they were more connected and complete. He remembered Bill Denbrough, his stutter, and the way he looked out for all of them both physically and emotionally. Stanley “Stan the Man” Uris, who was dignified and seemed quick to retort but was actually pretty easy going. Mike Hanlon, full of advice and a steady friend. Ben Hanscom, the teddy bear of the group and the most creative. He remembered some of the things they did too, like diving from low nearby cliffs into the quarry, late nights with flashlights and hushed voices to not wake parents, loud afternoons with board game after board game and petty argument after petty argument. They were all such wonderful people, Richie couldn’t begin to understand why they had been forgotten. 

Right now, he couldn’t care less about where he needed to be or what he needed to do. He was back with his friends for the first time in what felt like centuries. 

He didn’t realize he’d just been sitting there, staring, until Bev cleared her throat as she sat down next to Ben. “Hey Richie, are you gonna sit, or are you too busy daydreaming about Eddie?” She said. She was pretty constant with teasing him about Eddie, and Richie wasn’t sure why she was targeting him specifically, but he almost wondered if it had anything to do with why he was here. 

He pushed down that thought quickly.

To distract himself, Richie quickly came up with a retort, saying, “If by Eddie you mean Eddie’s mom, you are absolutely right, miss Marsh,” Classic. He slid down next to Eddie, who’s cheeks were tinged pink, but his face was twisted up in disgust.

“You’re gross,” Eddie said, mouth tilted like he was trying to hide a smile, before he returned to his previous conversation. Richie could barely hide his laughter, not only at Eddie’s reaction but also at how giddy he felt in general. He had been in this group for like 10 seconds and he felt more like himself than he had in months.

The conversation flowed easily, especially since Bill only brought up his absence this morning once, and Richie was able to pass it off with the same excuse he gave Beverly. Altogether, it was the best day he had had in a while. He felt like he couldn’t get rid of the slight smile forming on his face. He guessed it came with how content he was feeling inside. 

Sue him for being a little cheesy. It was the first time he felt this comfortable in maybe years. And it wasn’t like he was going to admit it out loud, so nobody had to know. It’s not like anyone could read his mind, right?

Right.

Eddie stopped him for a second after lunch when everyone else had left, and Richie didn’t know why it made his heart skip a beat.

“Hey, you were missing when we met up before school,” He said to Richie, brown eyes boring into him, but not in an accusatory way.

“Yeah, I mentioned to Bill that I slept in,” Richie said, wondering why Eddie brought it up, and why he was looking at him like he knew Richie was hiding something. Did Eddie somehow know that Richie wasn’t supposed to be here, that he was supposed to be getting ready for college and figuring out how to live his eighteen-year-old life?

But Eddie just shook his head, saying, “Well, we talked about who’s house we’re meeting up at for movie night this friday. Ben’s is the obvious choice.” 

“Got it,” Richie said, unsure what to else say. He paused as they both stood there for a second, awkwardly, before saying, “Want me to walk you to class, madame?” He quirked his voice up at the end, poorly imitating a french accent, and stuck out his arm for Eddie to take. Eddie rolled his eyes, shoving Richie’s arm away, but the way Eddie was struggling to hide a laugh as he walked alongside Richie showed he wasn’t really annoyed.

And if Eddie’s class was at the opposite end of the building from Richie’s and it made him a few minutes late, Eddie didn’t need to know.

Richie was smiling for the rest of the day.

He was still smiling on his bike ride home, the wind tangling his hair as he pushed his shoes against the pedals to feel it press against him. It was a really pretty day for Derry, the weather an end-of-summer chill to it and the sun occasionally smiling from behind the clouds. He wasn’t sure he could ever stop being happy.

Unfortunately, he was wrong. Richie realized this as soon as he slammed his front door and walked into what was supposed to be an empty house.

Not-Eddie sat on the counter, his rubber band stretched against his finger, poised to hit his wrist. He let go. snap.

“What do you want? I’m here,” Richie said, taken by surprise and somewhat annoyed at Not-Eddie’s existence, maybe because it reminded him that this wasn’t his reality. Maybe.

“You’re thinking about doing nothing, aren’t you. Just staying here and acting normal, like yourself, like there isn’t something you need to do,” Not-Eddie said, calmly but not happily. 

“So what if I am?” Richie said, defensively, even though he was pretty sure that wasn’t his exact train of thought, “You never said I couldn’t,” Richie tried his best to stand still, as if Not-Eddie was some aggressive creature that attacked when threatened. “It’s not like it’ll make a difference if I hang out with my friends anyway. I don’t think I need to spend every second working on your dumb vague fucking quest you sent me on,” He was mad, sure, and it was bleeding into his voice, his inflection raising on every other word, but he had every right to be ticked off. 

“And yet, you know that you need to,” Not-Eddie replied, pulling back his rubber band again. snap. “You can’t just do nothing or you’ll be back to the life you had before. Haven’t you realized that?”

Richie didn’t know that, actually, and he didn’t really consider that. He wasn’t sure why it made sense, but it did. He couldn’t just abandon the fact that he needed to stop Eddie from doing... something? It was so unfair that he still didn’t know. Wasn’t he living the same life as before? It was so confusing.

“Why are you here anyway? Just to tell me something you think I already know? That’s stupid,” Richie spat, mad at Not-Eddie for ruining his good mood. Of course he had to come in and fuck everything up. 

The wind had intensified, whipping up against the house, creating the occasional ghost-like whistle and crinkling his neighbor’s wind chimes.

“No,” Not-Eddie said, coolly, after a second of pause. “Just here to remind you what you need to work against.” 

He pulled back the rubber band, the material stretching, and everything was silent, as if the whole world was waiting for the release of the band and the snap as it made contact with skin. 

Richie searched for something to say, blanking. He blinked, and Not-Eddie was gone, silently, as if he had never been there in the first place.  
There was a faint snap of thunder, way off in the distance, as the sky opened up to make room for rain and droplets of water started pelleting down, echoing on the house’s windows. 

Richie wasn’t sure whether he should think about it for the rest of the week or forget it ever happened. He wasn’t sure which one would be harder.

Still, the week passed faster than he expected, and the classes weren’t as boring as he’d expect having been through them before. He supposed it was easier because he didn’t quite remember.

His memory was coming back to him a bit more every minute, though, which made everything a bit less confusing but didn’t satisfy the question as to why he lost it in the first place.

Before he knew it, it was Friday, and the entire group seemed giddy with the idea of just hanging out with their friends, with their homework done for the week and close to no responsibilities otherwise.

Richie was walking out the front entrance of the school when he heard his name being called. He turned to see Eddie sort of jogging towards him, slightly panting when he finally caught up. Eddie must’ve been really out of shape for a slight job of like 50 feet to wind him.

“What’s up, Eds? I mean, I always say that I make you breathless but I didn’t mean it this literally,” Richie said, feeling his face spread into a smile.

“Shut up,” Eddie said, scowling, “And don’t call me Eds.” He stood there for a second, catching his breath, and Richie was about to make another (perhaps more risqué) joke, when Eddie spoke up again. “I was wondering if I could stay over at your house before and maybe after we go to Ben’s? My mom is being really insufferable lately. She’s scared I might catch something at a new school or something, because she’s always fussing about my meds and who I came in contact with, or whatever.” He paused to take a breath again, “Which is bullshit because, you know, Derry’s so fucking small that our class is made up of pretty much the same people we’ve known our whole lives.”

Richie smiled at Eddie’s short ramblings, probably one of the top ten things he missed most about Eddie Kaspbrak. He always cussed like a sailor when rambling, which Richie thought was cute. Like an angry puppy.

“Yeah, Eds , sure, just two rules,” Richie said, and Eddie rolled his eyes, “Make sure Sonia knows where you are at all times —we don’t want her to get too mad at me, you know— and don’t get too handsy, for the same reason, of course.” 

“Ugh, shut up, asshole,” Eddie said, shoving Richie, his tone playful in the way it always was when Eddie was trying to hold back a smile. If there was another thing Richie didn’t realize he missed the most, it was Eddie’s banter and restrained giggles. “And yeah, of course my mom knows the plan. I’m not stupid, because if she didn’t, I’d be dead by tomorrow.”

Eddie was joking, but Richie could hear the annoyance in his voice. He knew how strict Sonia could be. He remembered sometimes during the summer Eddie would be missing from the group for days, or even a whole week, because he’d neglected to tell her where he was going or when he’d be home. 

Richie would always visit him at least once during those periods, in the middle of the night through Eddie’s first-floor window. They’d whisper through the night, Eddie’s dim dollar-store flashlight casting warped shadows on their faces, the window cracked open to let the moonlight and occasional cool breeze in, talking and joking and laughing so hard that they had to stay silent for a few minutes to make sure Sonia didn’t wake up. Richie would stay until dawn, when both of the boy’s voices cracked from overuse and they would frequently yawn from exhaustion and the morning sunlight would cast a pale-yellow orange on Eddie’s face, turning his deep brown eyes a lighter honey color.

Sometimes his memories were so vivid it scared him.

“Hello?” Eddie said, snapping Richie back to reality as he waved his hand in front of his face, “Is there anything going on inside there?”

“Shut up,” Richie said, smirking at Eddie as he walked over to the bike racks, “I was just thinking about last night with your mom, it really takes control over me sometimes.” Eddie pretended to retch in disgust as he walked beside Richie.

“Unless you’re talking about bingo night with the church parish, nothing happened with my mom last night, weirdo,” Eddie retorted.

“Eds, baby, you should know that ‘bingo night’ is just an obvious cover for me and your mom’s passionate night affairs.” Richie replied, hopping onto his bike and slowly pedaling away from the school, looking behind him for Eddie’s reaction.

Eddie’s nose was scrunched up, tongue sticking out in disgust at Richie’s words. Richie wasn’t gonna lie, one of the main reasons he made fun of Eddie in particular was because of the faces he made in response.

“Please,” Eddie said, getting on his bike and following after Richie, “We all know the only ‘passionate night affair’ you’ll have in your life is the night shift at the local fast food restaurant.”

Richie laughed, as always surprised at Eddie’s biting retorts, which were a sharp contrast to his innocent baby face. “You wound me, Eds. I can’t keep up with you.” 

It was easy to settle back into the quick routine of banter as the two pedaled away from school. The late summer sun was giving a final triumphant blast of heat, so the weather was a little more than uncomfortable, and the clouds were unusually sparse. Even Eddie was sweating, and Richie could see the shine on his face and neck when he stole glances at him.

But the sun was shining, and Richie wouldn’t trade that moment for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should probably be able to get the next chapter out quicker. let me know what u think!!!


	3. chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t know, I’ve just been thinking about it recently. Like about what comes next.” Richie replied.
> 
> “Next, like after death?” Eddie asked.
> 
> “No, just like,” Richie paused, not really finding the words he needed and deeply regretting this stupid conversation, “I feel like I need to do something, soon, or something, like my future depends on it.” It was way too specific, and way too close to what he was actually thinking (which meant he was way to close to saying what he was actually thinking) and way too close to Eddie thinking he’s literally insane.
> 
> But Eddie just bit his lip in thought, then said, “Like, change the world?”
> 
> “Maybe. Change some world.” Richie said.
> 
> “I think you could change the world,” Eddie said, and Richie looked at him, because in that moment he missed him like a punch to the gut, even though they were together.

“Fear not, everyone, the party has finally arrived!” announced Richie as he walked through Ben’s door, to a chorus of groans from the losers. All except Ben himself, who sympathetically clapped a little. “Thank you, my fairest Benjamin, I bestow upon you fame and good fortune for applauding my entrance,” Richie said in a very bad british accent.

“Can I sue you for trauma to the ears from how bad your accents are?” Eddie said as he came in from behind Richie.

“You guys took long enough,” Stan said, trying to nip their banter in the bud, “We still haven’t chosen a movie and it’s already almost 9.”

“Aw, does old man Stan need to be in bed by 9:30 again?” Richie teased.

“Shut up,” Stan scowled, “Some of us actually have a curfew. Eddie can sympathize.”

Richie just laughed in response. He dropped down next to Stan and might’ve spilled some popcorn in the process, which was rewarded by another scowl from him. Eddie also sat down, next to Richie, a little squished due to the amount of people on one couch. Richie ignored how his heart seemed to skip a beat.

“We cannot watch a horror movie,” Eddie said, not paying attention to Richie, but instead watching Beverly look through a pile of cheap old-school thrillers. “I might actually die if we do.”

Unfortunately, everyone else seemed to have a different opinion. “W-we are so w-watching a horror m-movie,” Bill said, purposefully ignoring Eddie. Most of the other losers chimed in in agreement.

“Don’t worry, Eds, I’ll totally protect you from any monster out there,” Richie teased, throwing his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and pulling him closer. Eddie wriggled out of his arms, and Richie pretended to clutch his heart in despair and betrayal.

“Gross. The only one who could probably actually protect me is Mike.” Eddie said, gesturing over towards him. Mike grinned widely in response and pulled his shirt sleeve up, flexing his bicep. Eddie was right, Mike was definitely the strongest.

“Damn, Mike, no need to show off. I might actually be tempted to leave Eddie’s mom if you keep doing that,” Richie joked, to which Eddie slapped him. 

“S’all the work on the farm,” Mike simply replied. Richie was about to crack another joke at someone’s expense before Beverly shushed them all, sitting down on one of the wide chairs with Ben. 

It was clearly a cheap movie, with an extremely overused plot and actors that looked like they just stepped off a porn set. Really, the movie relied too heavily on the notion that sex sells, especially apparent when the girls wore borderline transparent tank tops and screamed more erotically than fearfully. For some reason, movies like these always made him more uncomfortable than, like, turned-on. He guessed the cheap quality just wasn’t his style.

Despite this, Richie felt the need to make a crude comment every time a girl came on screen.

“I’d smash,” Richie said for about the tenth time that night, to the great disapproval of the rest of the losers. Even Eddie, who had remained relatively silent for the entire movie, smacked him on the arm in disgust.

“Seriously, you do not know how to shut up,” Stan said, shoving Richie away from him, which in turn just smushed Eddie further between him and the arm of the couch. Richie rolled his eyes. 

“S’not my fault this movie is boring,” Richie drawled, slowly leaning over until he purposefully fell sideways, head practically Eddie’s lap as he spread his legs onto everyone else’s.

“You’re boring,” Beverly laughed, “and incredibly dramatic. I feel like you’ll give Eddie a stroke if you keep laying on him, too.” 

That might’ve been true. Eddie had turned noticeably red once Richie laid his head on his lap, and turned redder as Beverly pointed it out. He sort of muttered out a ‘Shut up,’ in no one’s direction.

Richie ignored the apparent twist in his gut when he saw the effect he had on Eddie. It meant nothing, anyway, Eddie was easily embarrassed.

“Aw, don’t worry Spaghetti, I tend to have this effect on women,” he sent a wink Eddie’s way, because apparently he couldn’t go two seconds without making a joke out the situation. Stupid.

“That’s not my name,” Eddie said, his voice lacking it’s usual sarcastic bite. Shit, was Eddie mad at him or something? Maybe his comment was a little too far. He’d said flirtier things in the past, right? He did this to everyone in the group. Why’d he have to worry especially about Eddie?

He decided to just try to focus on the shitty movie instead, but his eyes kept wandering. Eddie had the most enthralled expression on his face, watching the movie carefully and even flinching slightly at every jump scare. Eddie always got really into horror movies, easily getting scared at even the most childish plots. It was cute, though, to see the way his expression changed with each twist as the electric-blue light of the TV flickered across his face.

Richie tore his eyes away from Eddie’s face. He didn’t need to be staring. That was weird.

Before he knew it, the movie was over, it’s credits rolling to a quick end. Stan was quick to push Richie off the couch so he could stand up. Richie whined as he fell to the floor with a thud.

“Eddie, help me,” he groaned dramatically, “I’m dying.” He didn’t miss Stan muttering something along the lines of ‘it’s what you deserve’. Eddie simply gave him a once over, rolled his eyes, and offered a hand out to help him up.

Unfortunately, Richie pulled a little too hard when trying to stand back up, and Eddie stumbled, barely catching himself before he slammed straight down into Richie. Their faces were inches apart, and Richie could feel Eddie’s breath hitch from the strain of catching himself.

Eddie blinked, his expression unreadable but his eyes wide. Fuck. Richie needed to say something, fast, because this was awkward and everyone was watching. But his train of thought was scrambled as he looked into Eddie’s deep brown eyes. His eyes flicked to Eddie’s lips, which were parted but silent. 

“Damn, Eds, I guess you’re literally falling for me,” Richie joked, trying to brush it off. His voice caught at the end, and he cursed himself in his head for sounding so stupid. Luckily, Eddie just sat up (Eddie was sitting on him what the hell Eddie was sitting on him) and frowned at Richie’s smooth coverup.

“Are you, like, physically incapable of saying my real name?” Eddie said, his scowl distracting Richie away from his long eyelashes. 

“No, I just prefer to mo-,”

“Ok, bye,” Eddie said, quickly cutting him off before he could finish the joke, standing up. Even Bill told him to shut up from the room over. Richie grinned wide anyway, personally finding himself hilarious. 

“You guys know you love me,” Richie announced, getting up and dusting himself off, to a chorus of unanimous denials from the losers, even Ben. “Really? I feel betrayed,” he said, putting a hand to his heart in mock surprise.

Unfortunately, Ben’s mom came downstairs and politely suggested that they could leave, as it was already almost eleven and they were being distracting. Which basically meant they were being loud as fuck, but in adult words.

They gave their goodbyes to Ben as they slowly filtered out the door. Richie’s house wasn’t far from Ben’s just a couple of streets over, so it wasn’t long before they got back.

His house was quiet, still, and every sound they made seemed to echo despite the fact that the rooms weren’t very large. His parents must be out again. He doesn’t know why, but he hopes Eddie just assumes they’re asleep. It felt embarrassing to have a house this empty, especially comparing to Eddie’s house, where his mother was only two steps away from Eddie at all times.

Eddie didn’t really seem to notice, though, yawning from exhaustion and quietly stepping up the stairs to go to Richie’s room. Richie grabbed some Oreos before following because he’d be damned before he didn’t have a filler in case things got awkward. And Eddie always got hungry in the middle of the night for some reason.

“Can I borrow a shirt, or something?” Eddie asked, still whispering despite the fact that there was no one but Richie who could hear him. “I forgot one at home.” he paused, looking like he was reconsidering, “As long as you have shirts that aren’t that stupid hawaiian print.”

“Dang, Eds, low blow,” Richie laughed, rummaging around in his drawers for a shirt, “And while you’re asking for a favor, no less.”

“It’s not really a favor, more like a basic need,” Eddie scoffed, “Unless you want me to walk around shirtless.”

Richie’s breath caught at Eddie’s joke, hopefully not loud enough to hear. He didn’t imagine Eddie shirtless, laughing at Richie’s jokes and leaning into him, skin against skin. He didn’t imagine that, because that would be weird. But he felt his face heat up anyway at the thoughts he wasn’t having.

Instead, he opted to just say nothing in response and throw Eddie a random shirt in his drawer. He turned around when Eddie started to take his shirt off, which was undeniably weird. He’d seen Eddie shirtless dozens of times, especially since they spent a majority of their summer at the quarry. He was being weird, and he knew it.

Richie tried to distract himself from his self-depricating train of thought by changing himself, picking out a pair of sweats and a hoodie because his room was always freezing at night, even during the height of the summer.

He sat down on his bed next to Eddie, who was cross legged and looked kind of small in Richie’s t-shirt, despite Richie only being a few inches taller than Eddie. He could get used to him wearing his clothing, though, because the shirt hung off of him in a way that showed off Eddie’s collarbone. 

“I’m tired,” Eddie whined, grabbing the Oreos Richie has brought and opening them, taking a stack. 

“Then go to sleep, idiot,” Richie replied, leading against his headboard and kind of unsure what to do with his hands. He went with grabbing some cookies and eating them, despite not being very hungry.

“Fine,” Eddie said, clearly attempting to sound biting but failing due to the exhaustion leaking into his voice. Sometimes it seemed like Eddie was always tired, constantly leaning on Richie and occasionally even falling asleep in class or when they were just chilling at the clubhouse. 

He leaned on Richie now, blinking slowly. His skin warmed at the touch of Eddie’s cheek through his sweatshirt, and he tried to mentally slow down his heartbeat. He decided to distract himself by starting a conversation.

“You ever think about the future?” Richie asked, quickly regretting it. It was one of those deep questions, vulnerable in a way Richie never was. Eddie didn’t seem to mind, though, eyes half lidded and focused on his socked feet, which were currently lazily knocking against Richie’s. 

“Sometimes. Why?” Eddie said slowly. His voice was small and endearing and very Typically Eddie that Richie literally blushed. Richie felt the urge to hold him, just to get closer to him for some reason.

“I don’t know, I’ve just been thinking about it recently. Like about what comes next.” Richie replied.

“Next, like after death?” Eddie asked.

“No, just like,” Richie paused, not really finding the words he needed and deeply regretting this stupid conversation, “I feel like I need to do something, soon, or something, like my future depends on it.” It was way too specific, and way too close to what he was actually thinking (which meant he was way to close to saying what he was actually thinking) and way too close to Eddie thinking he’s literally insane.

But Eddie just bit his lip in thought, then said “Like, change the world?”

“Maybe. Change some world.” Richie said.

“I think you could change the world,” Eddie said, and Richie looked at him, because in that moment he missed him like a punch to the gut, even though they were together. Eddie and his fun snarkiness that quickly melted into a certain type of kindness when no one else was around. “But you shouldn’t worry about it. I think you’ll have a thousand and one opportunities. They won’t all be right now.”

Temporarily, Richie wonders if it is right now. Right now, maybe he’s supposed to shove Eddie away or scream at him or cry and tell him everything he’s killing himself over. But he thinks it would be bigger. More obvious. He shouldn’t have to push Eddie away.

He hoped he didn’t have to push Eddie away.

“Maybe. But I might not be sensible enough to see them,” Richie said, again voicing his thoughts and making him feel way too vulnerable.

Eddie was silent for a second, in hazy thought. “I’ll slap you.” He declared.

“You’ll slap me?” Richie asked, smiling.

“When it happens. When the opportunity comes. I’ll slap you so hard you won’t miss it, and when you go on to be famous for changing the world, you can say to everyone, ‘It’s all because of Eddie Kaspbrak’” he said, in an absolutely god-awful rendition of Richie’s voice, which caused both of them to giggle uncontrollably.

“Wow. You certainly have not learned from me, accent and impression extraordinaire.” Richie said through a smile.

“Shut up,” Eddie said, drawling out the words like a teenage girl, “You suck too.”

“Suck your mom,” Richie replied.

“Ew,” Eddie said, turning into Richie’s shoulder, still giggling. Richie tried not to think about the contact, everywhere Eddie was touching him. Eddie was touching him in a lot of places.

“S’not my fault that me and your mom are in love, Eds.” Richie said.

“Don’t call me Eds,” Eddie mumbled back so quickly it was like a reflex. His eyes were closed, and he was borderline cuddling into Richie’s side as he started drifting off to sleep. 

Awkwardly, Richie reached over Eddie to grab a spare blanket, pulling it over him. He started to get up to go back downstairs when Eddie sort of grabbed onto his arm, lightly.

“You can stay,” Eddie said, eyes still closed and voice seemingly unbothered. Richie wasn’t unbothered, though, as his face warmed and his heart sped up one thousand percent at the notion of his and Eddie sharing a bed.

“O-okay,” Richie said slowly, feeling stupid for cursing. He settled back down, not quite sitting up but angles in a way so that Eddie could put his head back on his shoulder. “g’night, Eddie Spaghetti,” He said quietly.

Eddie just hummed in response, his hand still not having moved from his arm, quickly drifting off to sleep.

Eddie was a generally cuddly person, frequently latching on to people, brushing hands, linking arms or legs, letting his friends hold and carry him places. It wasn’t just him, Richie told himself. This wasn’t special treatment.

However, he couldn’t ignore the way his heartbeat sped up, his breath hitched, caught in his throat, the way he always wanted more.

It was a weird feeling that Richie had never really felt before. He would get nervous around Eddie, but not in a way that made him not want to be around him. His face would burn and his skin felt like it was on fire when Eddie touched him, but he didn’t want Eddie to stop.

It was definitely not something he should be thinking about with his best friend. It didn’t seem normal, to overthink everything they did, especially when they spent all their time together. It reminded him of when he had a small crush on this girl in his 3rd grade class, when she smiled at him and gave him one of her ice cream bars. 

It reminded him of a crush. On a girl.

But there was no way he could feel— like that— for Eddie. Eddie was a guy, last he checked. It was just a fluke, he must’ve been misinterpreting his feelings. He was wrong.

The 3rd grade girl was a bitch anyway.

Richie didn’t want to think about it anymore. He felt sick and cold, in a weird offsetting way, like he’d been stabbed with ice and it melted in his wounds. He pushed any thoughts away, screwing his eyes shut, and forced himself to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first time i’ve written in a while haha hope i’m doing ok plot wise :/

**Author's Note:**

> again, any feedback is amazing feedback.  
> let me know what you think and i’ll write sonnets of praise in your name : )


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